


To Whom It May Concern

by raiykei



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Love Letters, M/M, Oh they were roommates, not really canon but if you squint hard enough you can pretend it is, two idiots in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:20:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28356879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raiykei/pseuds/raiykei
Summary: 'What did the mama goat say to the baby goat? Stop kidding around'Choi San was never good with words, but Wooyoung didn't need him to be.
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung
Comments: 14
Kudos: 66





	To Whom It May Concern

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sunwisher](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunwisher/gifts).



> It's 3am, I'm tired, and I heckin' finally finished this gift for Ray. Happy belated holidays~

Choi San didn't have the easiest time with words. Wooyoung had figured that out not long into knowing the other man. It wasn't that he distrusted them, the meaning behind them, the sincerety of what was being said. They just didn't come as easily to San as they did to Wooyoung, who could ramble on about any and every topic until he was sure everyone in the neighboring area wanted to strangle him or yell at him to shut up. Rude, honestly, if anyone took the time to bother asking what he thought of it. 

It wasn't even that San was asocial, preferring his own company to that of others. He could get just as vocal, if not more so, if he found a topic he was interested in. He was always tagging along and offering suggestions on things to do, he was always cuddling up to one or more of their friends. Just as teasing and playful as the rest of them, even if San tended to be a little more competitive than most when it came to friendly game nights.

It was just that when it came to speaking his emotions, San found himself tongue tied in the most adorable of ways, cheeks flushing as he stopped midsentence, words dipping into a whine the more Wooyoung grinned, the closer Wooyoung leaned until their noses brushed and San was ducking his head to hide his embarrassment. It was endearing, and Wooyoung never grew tired of watching it unfold before his eyes, never grew tired of showering San with compliment after compliment and seeing his face, his ears, his neck turn a brilliant shade of red that put roses to shame. He never grew tired of the way San pushed at him the closer he moved, not wanting anyone to see how embarrassed he was. He never grew tired of the way San pursed his lips as he pouted, whining some excuse no one believed.

Wooyoung never grew tired of the way San would find his own ways to get back at him, little things that weren't exactly embarrassing but still brought a warmth to Wooyoung's chest every time he noticed. 

Choi San might not have been the best with words, but he showed his affections in other ways.

It had taken Wooyoung a while to notice at first. San sliding him food from his own plate, always things Wooyoung enjoyed eating. Always taking time from his schedule regardless of what he was doing to make time for him, even if it was just cuddling on a couch and watching shows. Buying ice cream he knew Wooyoung liked despite not being a fan of the same flavor. All little things that at the time had never seemed like much, but in retrospect spoke volumes about San. Someone who cared deeply for those in his friend circle, who's loyalty almost matched Wooyoung's, who was passionate and more attentive than people gave him credit for.

It had been a no brainer when they had agreed to move in with each other, their friendship strong and unshaking despite their teasing and any looming foul moods. They worked well together, helped each other, leaned on each other. There was hardly a day where San's presence next to him didn't calm Wooyoung down in some way. Helped quiet some of the storming frustrations when something wasn't going well, soothed any injured pride, warmed him when Wooyoung got too excited about something and all San could do was smile, bright and beaming.

It had been after a particularly nasty day, when insecurities had ran rampant, marring every thought, every word until Wooyoung had struggled to hide his tears, curled up on the couch with arms around a cushion. San had walked in, a greeting dying on his lips as he caught sight of his roommate wiping at his tears. 

"Sorry, I-" Wooyoung had started, breath hitching half way through his sentence, having to pause to sniff before continuing. What he had been planning on saying left him, the words not seeming enough for what his friend had walked in on. "Sorry." Voice quiet, small, not holding nearly the same amount of confidence or energy it normally did. Of course San had to walk in during one of his breakdowns. Of course. Granted, it hadn't been the first time one of them had stumbled across the other reaching a breaking point, but Wooyoung had hoped that he would have been able to gather himself before San's return.

San didn't immediately question the tears, didn't press. He set aside the snacks he had gathered from the store down the road, taking a seat next to Wooyoung and not even hesitating before drawing him close, an arm around his shoulders. Wooyoung melted into his side like he always did, like San's body was meant for him to press against, soaking in a warmth only Choi San could offer. "What happened?"

"Nothing happened."

"Wooyoung."

He curled tighter, giving the smallest whine, as if that would save him from San's question or the silence that stretched between them. San didn't press, didn't speak, just waited like he always seemed to do until Wooyoung was prepared to speak up. He wiped at his eyes again before turning and pressing his face into the flesh of San's shoulder. "It's been a shitty day. Everything that could go wrong did, and I don't know, it's stupid, but the game wouldn't load, and my computer refused to work, and I got frustrated, and then I couldn't stop crying. I didn't want you to see me like this."

"Like what?" San's hands gently tugged at his own, pulling them away from his eyes before he could rub them raw trying to wipe away the tears. He laced her fingers together, thumb rubbing reassuringly along the bare skin of Wooyoung's hand. "Like a human?" He turned, placing a kiss to the crown of Wooyoung's head, letting his lips linger for a moment before letting his cheek rest in the spot his lips vacated. "You're fine, Wooyoung. If you need to cry, then cry." 

There was more unspoken, Wooyoung knew. Reassurances and comforts that San had trouble vocalizing. He would never fault San for not having the words, for sticking with a silent comfort that had worked for them before, but for once Wooyoung found himself wishing that he would try. Just this once. Just so he could hear the words that he could wield like a sword to push his demons back. Back and back until there were no more doubts, no more second guesses, but no more words came, and Wooyoung couldn't find it in himself to ask for what he needed.

But some of the pressure that had built in his chest had eased, and Wooyoung sighed as he pressed a little closer to San, still clinging to the cushion. "Can we watch a movie? Not really feeling games tonight."

"Any recommendations?"

"Something animated. Like that dragon movie."

"Sure."

Wooyoung wasn't sure when he fell asleep, exhaustion dragging at every inch of him, sending him further and further into oblivion the longer the movie went on, the longer San stayed close to him. When he woke, it wasn't to the aches of muscles that spent too long curled on the couch. It was stretched out in his own bed, covers pulled to his shoulders. The clock next to his bed blinked an absurd 3 in the morning, silence echoing throughout the apartment. San must have gone to bed if the darkened hallway was anything to go by. 

With a sigh, he fully rolled towards the side table, momentarily frowning at the tall glass of water sitting next to his phone. Wooyoung grabbed his phone, half expecting to see a couple text notifications from San, not a sticky note adhered to the screen decorated with San's scrawled handwriting.

_'Dinner in the fridge_

_ps make sure to drink the water'_

In the bottom corner was San's signature, a little series of mountains with a sun between them.

If Wooyoung looked back on their lives, on their time living together, he could consider that the start of San's little post it notes. They found their way everywhere throughout the apartment over time. Sometimes there was one waiting for Wooyoung on the bathroom mirror. Other times it was the front door, the fridge, by the sink, the remote to their tv. Each message was always different, always unique in some way whether it be because it was a little drawing- sometimes a poor attempt at one of Yeosang's hehetmon, or a creature from a movie they had been watching, or something else entirely- or because of the message left.

Some were short.

 _'Have a good day'_ posted near the sink.

 _'Weather says rain. Take an umbrella'_ sticking to the front door.

 _'Gonna grab coffee, text me what you want'_ on the bathroom mirror. 

_'What did the mama goat say to the baby goat? Stop kidding around'_ in his lunch for the day.

Some were longer, writing cramped on the small piece of paper, almost making it difficult to decypher some of the lettering.

_'One day we'll look back on everything that happened- the good and the bad- and be shocked at how large our issues seemed back then. The tricky part is getting there. But you're strong, Wooyoung. You can do it.'_

_'I couldn't have wished for a better soulmate, and I hope you know that I'll always be there for you. The thick and the thin. You can reach out to me whenever and I'll always be there by your side.'_

_'There aren't enough words to describe how proud I am to call you my friend. Out of everyone, you're the one I look up to the most. You're going to go far no matter what you do.'_

The first time he had received one of the longer ones, finding it stuck to the front door while toeing his shoes on, Wooyoung had been speechless, reading over the text once, twice, before he felt the building pressure of tears that remained unshed. After a quiet night that had led into an even quieter morning, where Wooyoung had once again mourned the words San would never say, the note meant the world. The note had told him what San's actions normally did: that he wasn't alone, that he had someone by his side that was more than willing to reach out and help steady him when times began to get tough.

Wooyoung kept the notes in a box, always careful with them, always storing them somewhere San wouldn't be able to stumble across them. Not out of any fear or embarrassment. They were his little treasures, his pieces of San's heart and soul that he could pull out when he needed to, when written word spoke more than San's tongue could ever find the courage to say. 

San had to have noticed. The days Wooyoung moved a little lighter, smiled a little brighter, when Wooyoung would snag a pen and the pad of post its from the kitchen and scrawl a doodle that would have his high school art teacher crying from shame. He had to have noticed the days Wooyoung was a little clingier than usual in the evening, pressing as close as he could, soaking up San's presence like he needed it to survive. 

Talking about the post its, the little private messages, had always seemed a sort of taboo, like speaking of them would break the magic, would ruin what they had built, but there were days when Wooyoung kept San's messages close to his heart, the words the only thing keeping him going when stress and frustrations weighed on his shoulders. Days where he had to do something to express his gratitude, try to voice the emotion that clogged his throat and made normally easy words so difficult to say.

Often times the only thing he could get out was a tired, 'thank you,' and when words failed and exhaustion pulled a little too hard, Wooyoung would make sure to wake up a little earlier than usual, taking the time to write his own post it and sticking it to the door to San's room, the bathroom mirror, anywhere San would be able to see it first thing in the morning.

It became their thing.

It made getting out of bed in the morning a little easier, made their responsibilities throughout the day a little lighter, made getting home a little more fun.

And if Wooyoung found himself falling a little more each day, well, that was between him and his heart. Though it had never been particularly hard to fall for San. There was something in his kind smile and even kinder heart that had tugged at Wooyoung's soul from day one. Opposites, and yet so eerily similar that it hadn't been hard to declare San his soulmate, his brother, his best friend, the one person he knew he could always rely on, that would always be there for him in his awkward ways.

The notes did nothing but cement San's place in his heart, in his life, by his side, but while Wooyoung had the words, the courage, the opportunities to voice the emotions that swirled in his chest, the heat that coursed through his veins, he couldn't actually bring himself to speak them. His close kept secret, only let out in little bits and pieces with his praises, the lunches he brought when San forgot his, the doodles he hid around the apartment late at night. In the cuddles, the forehead touches, the fingers that ran through San's hair. In no way was Wooyoung subtle about his feelings, but admitting them out loud, being as blunt about them as he usually was, that terrified him in a way nothing else did.

Terrified him even as he sat in the middle of San's room, a box he had been digging through sitting between his knees, letters with his name on them catching his eye. Terrified him as he caught the first couple of lines of the first paper he unfolded, specific words jumping out at him, his stomach sinking as he read farther and farther.

_'Young-ah-_

_I know I don't always have the easiest time with words, but you deserve to hear how much you've grown to mean to me, so I'm going to do my best. But how can I when there are no words strong enough to describe how you steal my breath with your smiles? I can't find the words because when you turn your gaze onto me, everything I could think to say is swept away by your beauty._

Wooyoung didn't get beyond the first couple of lines before he was moving on to the second letter, hands shaking, breath caught in his throat. The second was much like the first, if not a little more frustrated if San's word choice was anything to go by. Still filled with compliments, with praises, with lines that bordered on confessions if Wooyoung allowed himself a chance to hope. Could there be any denying it when there were at least three letters addressed to him, all filled with memories, with feelings Wooyoung had thought one sided until moments ago?

"Hey, Wooyoung, did you find-" San froze in the doorway to his own room, eyes widening the second he noticed the papers in Wooyoung's hands. His grip on the doorframe tightened, body rigid with a tension Wooyoung had never seen before, eyes alight with a horror that had very rarely been etched onto his features, and most definitely never directed at Wooyoung himself. He took a half-step back despite Wooyoung having not moved, despite Wooyoung only turning to look at him, mouth trying to find words. Maybe a reassurance of some sort. Maybe an explanation for digging through letters that were clearly meant to be kept a secret. Nothing came to the tip of his tongue, washed away by shame that rolled over his skin and pain that clawed at his heart.

What could he begin to say that would make this alright?

San had never looked at him like that before. Like Wooyoung had done something beyond redemption. Like he was the most terrifying thing to exist under the darkened nighttime skies. Like he had destroyed the very thing that had kept their friendship together.

"San, I-"

"You weren't supposed to see those." Another small step back, voice quiet and small, but San rocked on his feet as if he couldn't decide if he wanted to rush forward and tear the letters from Wooyoung's hands or turn and flee. "I-" Teeth dug into his lower lip, and for a heartbreaking second Wooyoung feared San would bite down hard enough to draw blood. San suddenly twisted away, out of the doorway and farther into the apartment.

His disappearance from his line of sight prompted Wooyoung to move, scrambling to his feet, the papers forgotten amongst the rest of the box. "San, wait!"

"I'm going to Seonghwa's." His movements were jerky, sudden, as if he couldn't decide what he wanted to do, where he wanted to go. As if his body were only half listening to him as he struggled to put his arms in his coat and pull his shoes on. "I shouldn't have- I knew it was a bad idea-"

Wooyoung's hand closed around his arm, jerking San out of his wild thoughts and almost yanking his arm from Wooyoung's grasp with how hard he flinched. It spurred on the creature in Wooyoung's chest gnawing away at his heart, tearing him apart more and more with each little look, with each little movement. San was shaking worse than he ever had before. It was a miracle he had managed to find his way to the front door without his legs giving out on him. "How long?"

"Don't." 

"How long, San?"

There was too much pain, too much fear, too much pity encompassing all of San for Wooyoung to let him walk out the door. Too much of it directed at himself for contents of letters that should have remained a secret. Too much of it kept away from Wooyoung who had gone snooping where he shouldn't have, who had let curiosity get the better of him until the cat had come and nipped at his heels for testing his luck one too many times. "So long it hurts."

His grip tightened before Wooyoung let it loosen just enough to slide down the length of San's arm, fingers curling around his palm. He could feel the tremors, the uncertainty, the silent wishes that vibrated between them, sparking at anxieties. "We've been writing love letters to each other for months, and the three you kept to yourself in a box are what's giving you anxiety." He tried for amused, missing by a long shot if the blank confused look San gave him was any indication.

Wooyoung swallowed hard, fingers giving San's a gentle squeeze when they flexed. "The post its. The notes. They make a lot more sense now-"

"I didn't write those because of how I feel!" San drew back at how loud his own voice had gotten, shrinking in on himself, the only thing keeping him from going any farther being Wooyoung's grip on his hand. "I-I mean, yeah, they probably had something to do with the feelings developing, but I didn't- The thoughts were there before-"

A single finger settled against San's lips, keeping him from continuing his ramblings. Wooyoung's own lips quirked in a half smile, trying for reassuring and maybe slightly amused at how worked up San was getting. "I get it. There's things that draw you to a person, and you don't think anything of it one day, and then the next a simple look is making your heart flip. Like your smile." Hands lifted, settling on San's cheeks, Wooyoung's smile drifting a little larger. "And your heart." One hand dropped, settling on top of San's chest, feeling the way it thundered against his ribs, threatening to burst under such a gentle touch. "Always there, but gaining a new meaning later."

"Yeah." There was barely any sound to the single word, voice breathy, quiet, as realization seemed to dawn on San.

It did nothing to quiet his heart or settle the tremors.

"Choi San, I would really like to kiss you right now."

There was a moment where San froze before his head jerked once in a nod. He took a step forward, his hands coming to settle on Wooyoung's hips, unsure until arms wound around his neck and pulled him closer. Their lips met, soft, chaste, testing the boundaries that they had built up and suddenly ignored. It didn't last long, neither turning to deepen it, unease and uncertainty still flowing through their veins. And yet, San pulled back first, his forehead coming to rest against Wooyoung's, taking a shuttering inhale that sounded like he had ran a marathon. 

Wooyoung's hands fisted into the collar of San's shirt, holding tight while what little space remained between them disappeared the closer both of them pushed, seeking a comfort, an understanding, a conversation they would need to have later when nerves finally calmed down.

"You better not stop."

"What?"

"The notes. If you stop writing them, I'll kick your ass."

With how close they were it was impossible to miss the hum of amusement, as short as it was, the vibrations traveling through San and into Wooyoung. "I wouldn't dream of it."

**Author's Note:**

> If you wish to come yell about these boys or any of my works, feel free to do so on [twitter](http://twitter.com/waterclrsannie) or over at [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/watercolorsannie)


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